Category: Celebrations

The Tree of My Life

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

img_0670I set up my Christmas tree today and it is literally dripping with ornaments. I have to be honest that I had to purchase a second tree just to hold all of the lovely trinkets that I have collected over the years. My main tree is well over ten feet tall and the other one is smaller. Every single ornament has a story. In fact, I might fill a book if I were to write a paragraph detailing how and why I have each of them.

Many of my ornaments were gifts from friends, family members and students. One is especially beloved. It is a pink crocheted bell that a youngster gave me when I was completing my student teaching. She was a troubled child and I had been warned to watch her. Somehow I never thought to be wary of her. Instead the two of us bonded almost immediately. I found her to be enchanting and when she brought me that bell that she had crafted with her own hands I was touched to the very center of my heart. I often wonder where she is now. She would be in her forties. I hope things turned out well for her. I suspect that she would be surprised to know how much I treasure her thoughtful present.

My tree wouldn’t be complete without two decorations made from old Christmas cards and photographs. One was made by my friend, Linda, and it holds a picture of her two boys when they were tiny tots. The other came from my daughter, Catherine, when she was a little girl. It has an image of our first dog, Red, a beautiful and sweet golden retriever. They sit proudly amidst far more elegant ornaments but somehow they seem more important than even the annual Swarovski crystal snowflakes that I have been collecting since I visited the factory in Austria with friends, Monica and Franz, more than a decade ago.

I have a plastic angel with faded silver paint that came from my grandmother’s tree. Most people would think it quite ugly but it always reminds me of the fun times we had every Christmas Eve at her house with all of my cousins. I also have the glass globes that were on the first tree that Mike and I ever had. They too are a bit the worse for wear but I haven’t had the heart to part with them.

I have a large number of Hallmark ornaments. I tend to go back for more Mickey Mouse and Snoopy creations than any other. I also love the ones that replicate the toys that my girls had when they were small. My favorite among those collectables is Steamboat Willie. He whistles away as he steers his little ship. It always takes me back to the old black and white cartoons that sometimes played on television when I was a child.

When the Harry Potter books came out I became an instant fan and I have purchased themed decorations depicting many of the characters in the stories. My mother noted my enthusiasm and found a number of them for me. Harry is great but I am madly in love with the one that resembles Hagrid.

My friend, Pat, was a true lover of Christmas and gave me dozens of the decorations that don the branches of my fake fir. Over the years she gave me Snow Babies, Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus, silver bells, gingerbread men, redbirds, snowmen, and some of my most adorable and beloved adornments. Other friends like Cappy and Marita filled the my tree with trimmings from all over the world. There are straw bells and baskets from Mexico, blue and white globes from Denmark, ships in bottles from Italy and Santa figures from here and there.

I tend to purchase a new ornament any time that I take a trip. When I place those trinkets on the tree each year I instantly recall the fun that I had. I bought tin toys from the FAO Schwartz store that used to be in Chicago, a replica of Cafe du Monde in New Orleans, a double decker bus from Canada. There is a brown bear from Yellowstone and workers sitting on a steel beam from New York City. I have Revolutionary War soldiers and ballerinas. Nutcrackers and humming birds. I particularly enjoy an Elvis from Memphis and a duck from the same city.

My Christmas tree is really a tree of my life. Christmas after Christmas it records my travels, my friendships and the people and things that I most love. It tells as much about who I am as anything. I doubt I would be able to describe myself better than that tree does. It has bells and whistles and lots of sounds and is actually quite fun. I love nothing more than sitting in its light with the rest of the house in darkness and just enjoying each of the many decorations and the memories that go with them. They speak of the blessings that have followed me and the people who have always meant so much to me.

My tree has no coherent color scheme or theme. It appears to be a hodgepodge but I think of it as one of the loveliest things on earth. I used to prefer live trees but when I realized that my children were sick every year because of they were allergic to the sap I learned to love my artificial ones. I’ve had to replace those a few times but I carefully pack away the same ornaments year after year. I’ve had to make repairs and once in a great while I’ve had an accident and broken one which is momentarily heartbreaking but the memory that is associated with it never goes away.

My grandchildren especially love my tree. They press the buttons that make the decorations whir and spin and light up. They search for new ones each year and attempt to find the pickle that I purchased in Indiana way back when my eldest grandson was born. They like to hear to stories associated with each of them as much as I enjoy telling them. Somehow they never tire of laughing at their silly grandmother and like me and their mothers they would never change a thing about my crazy way of decking the boughs of my holiday fir.

It takes me hours to fit all of the ornaments on my tree. I worry that I will one day be too frail and weary to enjoy it as much as I do now. Both my mother and mother-in-law eventually eschewed their big trees in favor of small tabletop bushes. I truly hope that I never have to do that. I’d like to think that my children and grandchildren will help to bring my tree to life because they delight in it as much as I do. It is truly a tree of my life, a special view into who I am.

Goodness

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

aaeaaqaaaaaaaaitaaaajdzjzdrkywrilwjlngqtngrmoc1hyzrmlwi4ndk0mjzjymjmzqHe always seemed to have a smile on his face, an impish grin. He was a perpetual teller of jokes that made us laugh. He even filled our email accounts with hilarity that made even the most difficult day seem brighter. He rarely missed a special event and went out of his way to let us know that he cared. We all enjoyed his company and knew that he loved us and we loved him. What we did not know was how complex he actually was. We had little idea of the depth of his influence on the lives of people all across the city. We did not truly understand how genuine his faith actually was. He was exceedingly humble and rarely spoke of his good deeds or his beliefs. He was not just the same person as his words, but more.

He had been suffering for years but did not complain about his pain. His only goal was always to make each of us feel happy and loved. We did not know that he had been given a deadly prognosis many months ago. When his time here on the earth was drawing to an end he spent most of his last moments attempting to make us feel better about losing him. Then he was gone and we all felt adrift. We spent Monday and Tuesday laying him to rest but mostly learning how truly awesome he had actually been.  It seems that he had busied himself for decades making life just a bit more pleasant for virtually every person that he met.

He was enchanted by the Christmas season, his favorite time of year. Each December he donned a red suit and invoked the persona of Santa Claus for the children at his church. He took his role quite seriously, becoming the incarnation of the jolly old soul. His smile and his generosity was magical. It was as if Father Christmas had come down from the North Pole to visit with the kids but it was his giving spirit that lit up the room and it did not ever end there.

He was always only a phone call away from anyone who needed help. He responded to an SOS regardless of the time of day or the difficulty of the task. He made things happen with a determination that was unfailing. There were many souls who felt a debt of gratitude to him but he never asked for anything in return for his favors. He preferred the cloak of anonymity to glory.

He loved his family and His God above all things. He worked hard at his job bringing the same enthusiasm to his work that he gave to each minute of his day. His routine never failed to include prayers and devotions. He had a second sense about who might need the comfort of his unending belief in the Lord. Just the right words for an occasion would pop up on a Facebook wall or an email post. His sensitivity matched his sense of fun. He loved every breath of his life and inhaled his blessings with gusto while giving back even to those who did not return his favors.

When he knew that he was dying he did not falter. He believed that the very best was yet to come, the paradise of eternity. He smiled at the thought of the reward that surely awaited him. He was unafraid and even inspired the priest who anointed him for the last time. He was surrounded by family and friends to whom he had meant so much. He knew without hesitation that God was waiting for him.

The church was packed for his funeral. Those who had known him from childhood and those who had only recently had the honor of calling him friend spoke of his optimism and goodness. They remembered laughing with him and were able to recall times when he went out of his way to help them. The outpouring of love and appreciation for who he had been was remarkable. It almost seemed as if a king or potentate were being honored, or perhaps a saint.

We left his body under the shade of a tree not far from where my own parents’ remains now rest. We all believed that his beautiful soul was already luxuriating in heaven, a place for which he had longed. We were sad, not because we did not appreciate the reality that he was no longer suffering, but because we knew how much we would miss him. We had learned just how real he truly was. We worried a bit that our lives would never be quite the same without having him around to enchant us. We suspect that our gatherings will be just a bit bleaker and yet even in death he has somehow made us feel good. He taught us how to truly live and we are certain that he wants each of us to take a chance on opening our hearts to everyone that we meet.

We all know of individuals who appear to be good Samaritans but are actually hypocrites. They put on a face of virtue but their character is only skin deep. Finding someone who never wavers from the path of righteousness is not an easy task and yet in this man we found someone who was the genuine article. For that we will always be grateful even as our hearts ache just a bit today. I know that I am the better for knowing him. I suspect that he wants me to remember his family for they are surely hurting. It will be difficult for them in the coming days, weeks, months. There will be moments when they think of him and long for him. They will need our support and sometimes just a friendly ear.

They say a good man is hard to find and yet so many of us realize that we knew one in knowing him. I suspect that he will continue to watch over us just as he did while he was still on this earth. He will be a heavenly guardian angel now instead of an earthly one. One day perhaps the heavy feelings that now envelop us will be gone. I can only pray that we will never forget his example and the message of hope that he gave us.

This man taught us that a good life has little to do with possessions. Those things are fleeting and of little worth. All we need embrace are the people that we encounter as we go about the living of each day. If we truly and faithfully trust in God just as he did we will receive the best possible rewards and our impact will have been immeasurable.

The Best Gift

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

deddfa2e6c8561515b485b35fa01724fHow do we speak of grief when it is so personal? Why do we have a tendency to judge the level or appropriateness of one’s sadness? Each of us will face loss and death, either our own or that of a loved one. Our feelings and the way we express them are the result of multitudes of lessons we have learned. We cope in so many different ways and yet we find ourselves wondering why there are so many different approaches to tragedy.

My mother was quite strong but the deaths of loved ones revealed a crack in her outward facade that was almost disturbing. She allowed her emotions to have free range. She would take to her bed and cry in convulsive fits. She became unable to perform even the simplest tasks. Because of the extreme nature of her reactions I found myself in a state of forced control whenever our family endured an horrific situation. I maintained a fake coolness and appeared to be seemingly detached. It was an act and I’m not certain that it was the proper way to be but it became my way of coping.

I have watched people at funerals and noticed just how quirky each of us becomes whenever we have to endure the anguish that overtakes us at such times. Few people know how to properly deal with the misery of such situations. Those who do are a blessing. They say the right things and seem to know when to cry and when to smile. They are normal and natural and comfortable to be around. Most of us falter. We sense that the public has certain expectations for us but we simply do not know how to be. We are awkward with our feelings and our comments and wish that we might express ourselves with a brilliance that allows people to understand the essence of our souls.

A former student from the high school where I last worked lost her mother to cancer just before she was to graduate from college. She was quite close to her mom and they had both dreamed of the day when she would earn her degree. Having to walk across the stage when everyone surrounding her was in such a festive mood became more like a nightmare for her. In her heart she knew that her dear sweet mama should have been there to watch the triumph but instead she was forever gone. Every step that she took and every smile that she made on that day was little more than her effort to keep herself together when what she really wanted to do was rage against the unfairness of her loss. Of late she has been able to channel the enormity of her feelings by writing blogs designed to reveal her heartbreaking journey and to discuss the complexities of grief. Her hope is that by honestly discussing her emotions she will somehow help others who will most certainly find a time when they must deal with the loss of those that they love.

Not everyone is so willing to open their hearts. Most of us have masks that we use to hide the hurt and misery that stalks us. I am personally quite guilty of such behavior. I often pretend to be just fine when I am instead feeling quite low. I suspect that most people don’t really want a totally honest assessment of my emotional status and so I mostly smile to make them feel reassured. I only provide a truthful appraisal of my hurt and disappointment to those whom I most trust. I suppose that most of us are like that. We have one persona for home and another for public display.

Somehow there has to be a delicate balance between abject agony and stalwart stoicism. There also must be understanding. It really is not up to any of us to judge another for their despair or seeming lack of it. Unless we are close enough to them to truly know the content of their hearts we never realize exactly what they are thinking or feeling. Our only job should be to support them however they choose to be.

Long ago one of the teachers at my school was killed in a car accident. She was a delightful soul who was beloved by all. Those of us who worked with her attended her funeral in a state of shock and discomfort. Her mother was calm and gracious, attending more to our needs than to her own. I accidentally wondered allowed how she was able to maintain her composure under such circumstances and she laughingly told me that she was filled with so much medication that she could hardly feel her feet much less the pain that had ripped a crater open in her heart. When a lone tear ran down her cheek I saw the devastation in her eyes for the first time and we just stood holding hands until she was able to regain her composure and move to the next guest who had come to honor her daughter.

I have a dear friend who worked with me for many years. When my mother died she reacted in the most appropriate and loving ways. She came to the visitation and kept her remarks quite simple, telling me how much she loved me and how sorry she was. A week or so after the funeral she sent me a lovely plant that almost six years later continues to grow and flourish as a symbol of her kindness. Not too long after that she wrote a beautiful letter to me, reminding me of beautiful moments when I had shared stories about my mom. She kept in touch just to be sure that I was doing okay long after everyone had gone back to their normal lives. She took a few moments here and there to let me know that she understood that my pain was not yet healed. I will always love her for her insightful attention and ability the see through my attempts to appear strong.

Someone that you know may be suffering and not even showing the signs. Particularly during the holiday season we should each take the time to find that person who is unable to be merry because of illness, disappointment or loss. It takes very little to provide a bit of comfort, a funny card, a quick phone call, a bouquet of flowers, a visit. Those small gestures really do make a difference.

My daughter and I were feeling pensive this Thanksgiving. One of my cousins died just before the big day of feasting. Another cousin is battling lymphoma. All of my surviving aunts are well into their nineties and experiencing major health problems. We spoke of how fragile life is and the changes that are inevitable for all of us. We commented that during our most difficult times we are often quite surprised to learn who truly cares. There always seems to be someone who unexpectedly steps forward to provide us with exactly the tonic that we need to begin to heal. Perhaps each of us should find someone for whom we might offer solace in the midst of the rush to celebrate the season. There is no better gift and it need not cost a thing. Someone is hoping for your gentle touch. 

A Reason, A Season, A Lifetime

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

people-come-into-your-life-for-a-reason-a-season-or-a-lifetimeToday is a day for counting blessings. I have many reasons to be thankful and all of them involve the people that I have known. From the moment of my first memories I have been surrounded by good loving souls who cared for me and made me feel safe and secure. I have to admit that I have only rarely felt the pain of abuse from another human and in each of those cases I enjoyed the freedom to walk away. I have observed hate in this world but have not been the victim of it. Instead my life has witnessed kindness, loyalty, understanding and genuinely unconditional love over and over again.

When my baby brain awoke my parents were there doting on me, along with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors and friends. I recall riding in my grandfather’s Plymouth coupe with the earthy aromas of pipe tobacco and leather engulfing my senses as I watched him steer the car so confidently with his big laborer’s hands. I remember watching my grandmother rolling dough and allowing me to cut little round circles that would become big fluffy biscuits that melted in my mouth along with the homemade butter and jam that she slathered on them. I can still see my other grandma padding across the room in her bare feet carrying enamel cups of sugary coffee for her guests.

When I think of my aunts and uncles they are still young and beautiful in my mind. They sit around a big table playing poker and squabbling like loving siblings from a large family are wont to do. Then I think of my cousins, the ones who are more like brothers and sisters, who always seem to have been stalwarts in my world. We are filled with wonder and imagination, inventing games and entertaining ourselves for hours without any adult supervision. How we loved each other as children and how we still do as adults!

I enjoyed the times that we spent with my parents’ friends, especially Mr. and Mrs. Krebs. Sitting in a circle listening to Texas Aggie football games on the radio was a regular fall weekend event. We munched on cinnamon toast and popcorn while a lone voice narrated the action. I wouldn’t give up those times for anything. They were wonderful.

Eventually Daddy was gone. I would miss listening to his voice as he read fairytales to me or chuckled at the Sunday funny papers. Me and my brothers and mother would have to move on without him. Mama became our everything all rolled up into one beautiful package. She kept the faith with Texas A&M and there was never a Thanksgiving Day that we missed tuning in to the gridiron clash between the Aggies and the Longhorns. She would time our dinner so that we would be able to pay careful attention to the game. It was a tradition that we cherished and followed until the game was scheduled for another day and then the two teams played no more.

We found so many genuine friends in our neighborhood after our father died, people who literally watched over us and made sure that we always had whatever we needed. They made me feel quite special with their frequent displays of kindness. As a young child they provided me with multiple examples of how to be a good and upright adult. Mrs. Janot shared her afternoon programs with me in air conditioned splendor. Mrs. Bush demonstrated a rare courage that I greatly admired. Mrs. Frey took me and my brothers under her wing along with her own five children. The Limbs were models of hard work and moderation in all things. The Cervenkas were fun. The Sessums quietly did small favors that were actually huge in my mind.

School was like heaven for me. With one exception my teachers were always angels. I loved them so. Many of the friends that I made have followed me into adulthood and of late I have become reacquainted with others whom I had lost along the way. I find that we are very much alike for having shared the same experiences when we were growing into adults. We have good values. We were taught by our parents and teachers to always be ethical and fair minded. As far as I can tell most of us ended up being model citizens, employees, spouses, parents. We learned from the best.

Eventually I met my husband and we fell madly in love. Ours has been a grand romance from the beginning mostly because we cherish each other as unique individuals. We are both independent and do not always think exactly alike. The differences that we have  make our lives more interesting. My Mike has always treated me with unquestioning respect. He encourages me to be the person that I want to be. He is loyal and undoubtedly my very best friend. I have loved him every single day for almost fifty years. In turn, I received a second set of parents on the day that we wed. My in-laws have helped me in some of the most difficult times of my life.

At work I met the most amazing and giving people who were dedicated to helping the youth of our nation to become educated. They worked hard to bring excellence into the classroom. I admired them as much as the teachers that I had as a child. I saw them devoting themselves totally to their vocations. They might have become wealthy in other careers but they chose to serve the countless children and families that came to them year after exhausting year. Some only speak of being champions for our youth but my teacher friends have actually done the heavy lifting, often with little gratitude or compensation. They are my heroes, the people that I most admire. If life were totally fair they would all meet with the President of the United States and be given Medals of Freedom for their good deeds.

The pleasant memories of my friendships are ongoing. I think of all the fun that I have had shopping at thrift stores with Cappy, exchanging Christmas cheer with Linda and Bill, sitting at a table discussing the world with Pat and Bill, camping with Monica and Franz, playing bridge with Susan, watching our children play with the Turners and the Halls, being myself with Nancy, enjoying dinners with the KIPP gang, being with my adult former students and seeing how remarkable they have become, continuing to admire Judy as my icon, finding my first grade pal Virginia. I might go on for hours with beautiful stories of individuals who gave me their hearts.

I have been blessed with two daughters who are brilliant and beautiful and best of all, loving. They in turn married good men and together they built families that gave me the gift of seven grandchildren. All of them are the joy and the center of my universe. I revel in being with them and watching them grow. Their laughter warms my heart. I pray each day that they will know the same level of affection that I have so enjoyed.

I have been surrounded by the most incredible people at every turn of my existence. I have been blessed beyond measure in knowing them. I sometimes wonder why I have been chosen to be so fortunate. There have been times when my family was financially challenged. I have dealt with extremely difficult situations. I have not been sheltered from sadness and tragedy. Still I have only known love and kindness. At each turn someone has stepped forward to fill me with joy sometimes for a reason, sometimes for a season, sometimes for a lifetime. For that I am profoundly thankful on this day. 

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

We Need A Little Christmas Now

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

christmas-house-inside-decorations-e2-80-93-besthome_christmas-house-inside-decorations_home-decor_home-decorating-catalogs-theater-decor-shabby-chic-decorators-collection-coupon-diy-ideas-magazines-dI’m usually a stickler for tradition when it comes to October, November and December. I insist on proceeding through the holidays in an orderly fashion. Halloween must come first without even a hint of other celebrations to come. Next is my birthday which usually heralds sweater season and maybe even a few boot wearing days. After that is Thanksgiving and only the Friday after that feast should there be even the smallest sign of Christmas. This year I’m ready to throw up my tree, turn on some carols and enjoy a big mug of spiked eggnog and we haven’t even sat down for the annual turkey day dinner yet. Honestly I’m not sure what has gotten in to me but I don’t mind at all that some of my neighbors and friends have already decorated their trees and put lights on their houses. For whatever reason I just think we need a little Christmas and we need it now.

It’s been a tough year for anyone who has even remotely paid attention to politics. I had hoped that with the election all of the drama would be over and we would be able to just sit back and enjoy the holiday season. Unfortunately that little pipe dream is shattered. Instead I continue to hear barbs being traded between people who at one time were friends. Now we are all being cautioned not to even mention politics at the family gatherings that we will soon attend. I still harbor a fairly unrealistic hope that we will soon realize the folly of our ways and set aside the animosities that have built to a fever pitch.

It would be nice if we were to remember what the season is really all about. Thanksgiving should be a time of gratitude no matter how harsh the rest of the year has been. The fact that any of us are still standing and breathing should be enough for which to be thankful. We should not forget that we actually have a say in our government and the finalization of an election doesn’t change that. We have representatives with whom to communicate. We have the power of the pen. There are many many ways that we may live our freedoms. We sometimes forget that the pilgrims who are so much a part of the history of our annual celebration came to avoid persecution. They preferred risking their lives to submitting to the demands of a nation that outlawed their religious beliefs. Those who made it through the first year in a strange and dangerous land understood the import of their new found independence.

Christmas is all about the birth of a man who advocated a new and loving way of living. Whether we believe that He was the son of God or not, there is no denying that His words and teachings were revolutionary. His was a vision of peace, acceptance and unconditional love. We have commercialized Christmas to the point of burying His important message under a flood of consumerism instead of remembering the way that He taught us to live. Now more than ever we need His lessons to resonate with all people regardless of where they live, what they believe or how they look. Ultimately our hope lies in following the example of Jesus.

I have always loved this time of year because everyone seemed happy and ready to let bygones be bygones. It was a time for setting aside disagreements and beginning anew. The new year provided us with an opportunity to start over with a clean slate, a moment to try one more time to set things right. I find myself wondering and worrying that our natural tendencies to forgive and forget may not be as generous as in the past. There is a world of hurt out there and I don’t see it changing any time soon. Still I really hope that if we can just hurry Christmas along a bit we might find ourselves realizing that nothing is quite as important as our friendships and relations. Sure we might have that crazy uncle who has some strange ideas and there may be the long time friend who has gone a bit overboard with her newest cause but in the end we love them enough to overlook the irritating aspects of their personalities. We know in our hearts that none of us are perfect so we give the people about whom we care the benefit of the doubt as long as they seem to try.

Life is far shorter than we dare to admit. The nice thing about Christmas is that it gives us the perfect excuse to get together with family, friends and neighbors. We gather around the warmth of the tree and munch on cookies and worry about the diets next week. We feel the joy of lighting up someone’s eyes with a special gift. We finally take the time to pause from our labors long enough to laugh and relax and enjoy the company of people that we may not have seen for a long time. Somehow philosophies don’t seem to matter that much when we are exchanging hugs and remembering times spent together.

So I’m all for getting the Christmas show on the road as soon as possible. I may even put up my tree before Thanksgiving, something that has been akin to a mortal sin in the past. If hurrying Santa Claus elicits just one smile that might not otherwise have been there it will have been worth the effort. I want to go the the Nutcracker ballet and see the lights in the zoo. I plan to blast carols from my radio all day long for the next six weeks. I’m going to make cookies and fudge and have them ready to give to my neighbors. I can’t wait to hear the ringing bells of the Salvation Army and I plan to contribute to every red bucket that I see. I pledge to chase the Grinch and Scrooge out of town. It will be all Elf for me, sugary and sweet and happy as can be. “Away with predictions of doom and gloom,” I say. “We’ve got this!” I don’t intend to let anyone steal my joy. I’ll even don fur trimmed shorts if the weather stays warm.

It’s A Wonderful Life particularly speaks to me this year. We are all George. The world needs us. It is up to each one of us to be the change and the optimism that we wish to see. We can start by doing up Christmas in the very best way and then taking that spirit with us all throughout the new year. If there is anything that I have learned it is that we may get knocked down but there is always a way to get back up again. My challenge to everyone is to begin celebrating starting today. Do something that makes you or someone else feel good. Don’t limit yourself to twelve days or a month. Carry Christmas in your heart everyday.